Webs They Weave
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: [Suprise pairings] Undercover jobs can lead to some very awkward moments. Here's a few of the better ones.
1. Undercover

AN: A gift for my friend Laura; may your recovery be aided by the semi-fluff semi-humor I have written.

This couple can be anything you want it to be, except Ingrid/Fillmore. Let your imagination go to work.

I own nothing.

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"I'm going to kill Vallejo for this one," he muttered, quietly so that no one else could hear.

Quietly. In her ear. As they _danced_. Oh, how he wished the room were more brightly lit, or less crowded.

But no, not with his luck.

It was just his luck that ten fast songs would be played in a row, leaving her breathless… in his arms. It was just his luck that when they finally got to a slow song, it would be a semi-slow Spanish song that forced them to dance within inches of each other. He could feel the heat coming off of her, his hands placed gingerly on her hot bare shoulders.

With his luck, of course, she just had to be wearing that dress, too. That dark red dress that stopped mid-thigh and those sinfully long dark red boots. And that wig, one she'd used for undercover operations a million times before, the bright red, not quite chin length one. Recently, the Safety Patrol had gotten color contacts as an addition to their usual disguises. Hers were pink. She just had to choose those ones, since pink was his favorite color. Curse his bad luck. She looked wonderful.

Why him?

He could not function like this! Any moment now this whole operation was going to fall apart because he could **not** keep undercover if undercover meant 'dance nose-to-nose with Ingrid Third'. He glanced at the door. Too far away. He couldn't make a break for it. He was going to have to stay here for the rest of this dance. This informal dance held in X Middle School's old ballroom, against school rules, past his curfew!

He didn't even want to be here.

Fillmore handled stuff like this. Fillmore was used to things like this. Cornelius would not be nervous, wouldn't be blushing, and wouldn't be this flustered over whispering into Ingrid's ear. But this undercover operation called for two white Patrollers, because these crooks – as Fillmore would've called them – were very biased.

After this, he would never have a vaguely prejudice thought again. Clearly those thoughts had consequences. And those consequences involved the severe loss of personal space.

"People are staring," Ingrid observed. They continued to dance. She spun around and looped her arms around his neck… and one leg around his waist. "You're not acting like you love me."

"What do you want me to do, kiss you?" he snapped quietly, trying to figure out where he was supposed to put his hands.

Finally they settled on her hips, and he bit his lip, flinching.

Of all the rotten luck.

"That'd be nice," she said with that oh-so Ingrid coolness of hers.

His jaw dropped even though he'd been expecting that answer.

Kiss. Ingrid. Third. The idea made his heart slam into his chest. It wasn't a bad idea, no, actually, it was a nice idea, a great idea, she just wasn't the person he'd thought he'd share his first kiss with. His first kiss on his first undercover mission the first time he'd broken his curfew. For a moment he wondered if this was all an elaborate joke set up and he was wearing a wire. With his luck, that could happen.

Then suddenly it all overwhelmed him. She smelled of wildflowers. Her skin was like porcelain. He couldn't stop staring. One his hands, having a mind of it's own, touched her cheek. The silky skin drove him insane. In the back of his mind, he knew Fillmore was going to kill him. He didn't care. He gathered his courage and placed his lips on hers.

Wow, he had good luck tonight.


	2. Sleepy

AN: This was written as a Fillmore/Tehama, but it could be taken multiple ways, I guess. I'm trying to keep this so that what the couple is depends on your perception of the situation; a friend of mine said this was kind Vallejo/Tehama… Whatever. (Note to Mr. Average: I was thinking of Anza while writing that. Oo.)

By the way, if there's a specific couple you'd like to see, review and I'll write it, though I may not post it in this fic depending on the length.

And also, if I do a follow up chapter to chapter one or this, I'll have it clearly marked as such, so that you don't need to strain your brains.

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Sleepy.

She was so sleepy. And after a four hour chase downtown to catch the punks who thought they could steal every computer in school and ship them to Delaware, she had a right to be. Every part of her hurt, and things had gone according to plan. God, if they hadn't… She couldn't think of it. She was too sleepy.

"Hey!" he objected when her head dropped onto his shoulder, "What do you think you're doing?"

She didn't answer. She was sleeping.

He rolled his eyes. Half an hour, he told himself, half an hour and then the train would stop at the newly built platform at X. She yawned against him. He yawned.

Time seemed to stop. The bright white light flickered, casting tiny shadows across her face. She looked so peaceful, especially for someone who'd just spent the bulk of her evening chasing criminals. Her hair fell forward. He brushed it away, then looked up. The others were all asleep, except Anza, who, for a second, lowered his eyebrows in the closest thing to a glare that he had. After a moment, however, he smiled faintly and looked away.

He exhaled and looked down at the sleeping girl.

So… was this okay? He didn't know. But it didn't matter. The world seemed different in here, quiet and cool and perfect. He gingerly pushed her bangs back, marveling at the softness of her hair. He'd never noticed it before, mostly because Safety Patrollers _never_ looked soft. Safety Patrol girls were tough and sassy and fierce… except now.

She slumped forward and fell into his lap. He froze, eyes wide. At first he felt, well, terrified. But minutes trickled by and he gently placed a hand on her head. She felt cold and after a second, she shook. God, who'd turned up the AC? Whatever. He had it covered.

Feeling like a fool and ignoring the look on Anza's face, he took off his jacket and placed it on her. No doubt this would be the laugh of the Safety Patrol for the week. He could hear the jokes now…

But it didn't matter. He was sleepy.


End file.
